Because thinking about how much you hate your coworkers on the weekend is productive.

Background: I work at a YMCA nursery. We watch 6 month- 5 year olds for up to two hours while the parents work out. As we are not a full daycare or preschool, we don’t have to stress about lesson plans or teaching the kids. We just make coming to the Y fun for them, so that you have no reason not to work out.

I like my job. It’s the other people that are the hassle. (But isn’t it always?)

Dear coworker,

I used to like you. You had a few quirks that bothered me, but everyone has those. But now…

Yes, I know I’m younger than you. Significantly so. But, I’ve also been working here just as long as you. Hell, I started months before you! I really don’t need you telling me how to do my job.

Yes, I know it’s a rule that babies have to be wearing socks. Almost all of the parents know this, too. Sometimes they forget. A few times, it will be their first time coming in. This is not the end of the world. Casually remind the parents and half of the time they’ll have extra socks in their bags or cars.

But for the times that they don’t? Yeah, I’ll let the babies come in. Because we are here to make the members happy. That mom who drives waaay out of her way to come to our Y because she likes us best? I’m not going to make her drive home just because she forgot socks that day. Doing that little thing might be the difference between keeping a member or losing one. And with the economy as it is, a YMCA membership is far down on the list when people are struggling to pay mortgages. We don’t get paid on how many kids come or how many members there are. Still, the more we have and the happier they are the less hours corporate will cut.
Also, I don’t need your editorializing about my hair, or nail polish, or shoes. Remember when my hair was dark brown? At least once a week you told me “it looked better blonde”. Now half of it is purple. Our boss has no problem with it; most everyone knows about my habit of changing hair colors with the seasons and they think it’s fun. I have to brace myself for whatever you might say every day before work.

Your words don’t hurt me- it’s just fucking annoying. Every time I paint my nails my favorite green I hear you going “that looks like a gross pea green” in my head and get angry. If I had less self confidence or more ‘gives-a-shit’ I might stop doing the things I like.
Finally, every time you talk about your grandson with autism and how it was because of vaccinations, or how your daughter didn’t vaccinate her other kids because of that, I have to hide in the bathroom for a few minutes so I don’t scream. That time you told one of the members this, and that was probably why her son was autistic? I didn’t run to the break room because I had a craving for bad coffee. It was because that was the only way to stop the homicidal urges.

Yeah, I tried to talk to you about this years ago. I even brought in a book to lend you. Your absolute disinterest in it has made me stop trying. Heck, when I mention scientific studies on anything you don’t care. You are the type of person who blindly believes and forwards all those emails. The hilarious thing is that you don’t even have a computer. So all those myths that can be solved with a Snopes link? Doesn’t work in real life.

So, yeah. Everyday I work with you I hate you a little bit more. I cringe when I see your name on the schedule. I hate getting in the middle of work place gossip. My mom is close friends with several of the bosses- I’ve been hearing things since before I got this job. I also hear the other workers complain about the boss and each other. I don’t spread it. Well, I didn’t. Lately when others complain about you I join in. And after hearing how you have complained about me behind my back? I do not give a shit.

Not so much love,

I don’t have a letter written, but I have spent time on my weekends thinking about how much I dislike some of them! It’s not the kids; it’s the other teachers! Sunday night and I have the icky feeling I did when I was ten. Well, not that bad. It’s better to be the teacher.

Heh. I don’t even work tomorrow- I have school. Isn’t it great how college combines all soul sucking from working along with the monotony of learning?

I actually thought how thankful I am to my economics class as it saves me from another shift with that coworker.

Can I play?

Dear Coworker,
Oh wait, we’re not coworkers, I am your boss.

When you have one of those -I hate my job and want to quit- days it’s not a good idea to come into my office and interrupt my work so you can vent.

A million girls would kill for your job, and you’re not that good at it anyway.

Just quit already eh?

The Man

Wow. Purple hair? Green fingernails?


Dear Nitwit,

On Friday I had the joy of providing coverage on your caseload, as you’re on vacation. I don’t mind coverage at all. I sent out your mail (including the six docs you generated Thursday that you have been told multiple times not to send to the printer when we can send through the mailroom, but that’s neither here nor there). I pulled your voicemails and directed them to the phone coverage person.

Then I was lucky enough to review your incoming mail and worklists. Damn, but you musta been dropped on your head as a baby. Every single case I looked at was fucked up. Not just baby fuck ups, mondo fuck ups. You entered court orders incorrectly - one person has been over charged for multiple months. Orders that sould have been entered as reviews were entered as contempts, totally screwing up the legal process in our system. You sent out FOUR address verifications to the same address on the same day. I’m sure the post office loves you. You have plans on cases that bear no resemblance to the reality of the case (you reviewed a dept of corrections info return, noted the person is in prison for a year, but still plan on looking for his place of employment within the next 90 days?) Oh, and FWIW, you do not need 20 friggin’ worklists on one case. That’s the idea behind having a PLAN. You put it all there, not spread out in bits and pieces.

I spent more time on your cases than I did on my own. A co-worker asked why I bothered. I was responsible for doing basic coverage, but I would be a bad worker if I saw your fuck ups and ignored them. They tend to come back on us. Now I know why you like to have your clients call you directly rather than the team handling calls, as we’re required to do. You know you’re dumb as a sack of hair and don’t want the rest of us to find out just how blessedly stupid you are.

What continues to astound me is that you will be the first to say you do not know what you’re doing. You’ve even laughed about it. You’ve been at that desk for over two years now. Co-worker A has been with us for less than a year and works circles around you. Do you have incriminating pics of our boss or something? Because with our new work process, any other worker as dumb as you would be out on his or her ass, union or no.

Please retire. Or fall into a puddle and drown. Something.


You, yes you! You have followed me from that training role where I had to put up with your lame excuses to avoid anything resembling effort. Another person there was horrified the day you showed up, she’d left her last place solely to get away from you. The fact that such a genuinely nice and responsible person could even *say *that should have been our warning.

I never met your ex, but by christ I heard all about him from you when I could have been doing something productive. You know what? All of us, every single one of us who only heard your slanted poisonous bitching, we thought he must be a freaking saint to keep seeing his son through all your shit. Of all the thousands of women I’ve met, and hundreds who’ve vented their break-ups to me, there are two who make me feel ashamed of being the same gender - you are still the worst of them.

Then I got away and you worked with a family member of mine and she heard all the same crap, but she’s nicer than me and helped you qualify for work you couldn’t then be bothered doing.

And you got a freaking scholarship out of it, by whining and moaning that you’d specialised in the wrong area and been guided wrong and hadn’t received enough support, even though you got extensions and help with every. single. paper, which no-one else needed.

Don’t, not for a moment, think I’ve forgotten about that charity that missed out on so much money because you couldn’t be bothered finishing your role - or even taking a(nother) break and letting the rest of us finish it for you.

And now you’ve quit the scholarship (“too hard”) course and come leeching into my office expecting *me *to recommend you for work?

No. Can’t do it.

I will be explaining a very limited version of this to my boss and exiting the office while she does the interview and finds someone who really needs a half-assed slacker stinking up their office with your particular brand of odious personality.

Oh, our receptionist remembers you, too. She can’t believe I’m even letting you in the building.

Dear Student:

You are the reason I come to first period every day. Not because I can see your beautiful, sunny face. It’s so I can cackle inside with the schadenfreude I know is coming. See, every teacher you’ve had for the past three years has told me what a bitch you are, and how you can’t ask for the simplest thing without getting pissy because you’re above needing mundane things like hall passes. Your superior intelligence obviously means the rules are for lesser beings. So you cop an attitude when I tell you to get a pass to go to your locker or the restroom.

Here’s the thing. When you go to college, you will realize that you are nothing special. There will be a zillion high school valedictorians on the wing of your dorm, if not the entire floor. Some of them will have higher test scores than you. Some will have higher grades than you. And the first TA or professor you cop that attitude with will slap the taste right out of your mouth. Your classmates will want nothing to do with you because you’re such a bitch. You will have a very lonely existence, I can almost guarantee you.

So get rid of the attitude, before someone who has the authority to do so does it for you.



Fish Nya, lovely rant! If I may inject something serious, you cow-orking co-worker spewing that anti-vax crap to customers is NOT acceptable. I suggest you tell you boss about this. Why should the parent of the autistic kid come back if s/he gets verbal shit about the kid from a DCP?

If you want to be nice, give blabberbitch a warning. IMO she has lost her “nice” privileges, and you should go straight to management.

Ack! Someone report my post to a mod to close my bold tag! Stupid handhelds! Stupid brain!

MissTake, don’t you think your boss needs to know about serious errors like that?

IANAM, but if I were, your username would goad me into never fixing any of your posts.

Fixed. Note that I think you can report your own posts these days, IIRC.

This concerns me, too. Have you had a talk with your supervisor about what you should do when your co-worker spreads dangerous misinformation like this? I’d make it my business to make sure that the higher-ups make sure SHE understands that their legal position is that she is not allowed to advise other people to endanger their children.

Thankfully, this only happened once, and I don’t think the mother actually listened. Her comment was thrown in a talk about how the boy was now in a special school. If it was not for my interest in science-based medicine it probably would have gone unnoticed.

I’m actually much more worried what she is spreading to the other workers. Last week she mentioned how one of her friends recently died because of the flu shot she got last year and I’m still not quite sure how that was supposed to have happened. Especially because she said that “doctors” were the ones blaming the death on the shot.

I hope that whatever that was doesn’t stop her from getting a shot herself this year. I’m actually planning on talking to my boss about some way to help get all the workers flu shots. I’m skeptical about anything happening, but I’m going to fight for at least getting flyers or pamphlets put out with the rest of the information we provide- even if I have to print them out and tape them up myself.

As a father of an autistic child, I don’t have a single issue on calling out the woman’s ignorance. Her 5 second retort would wither in front of our years of reading books, education, discussion and trial and error hands-on approach to understanding what makes our son tick.

Chain emails tend to make poor scientific studies on anything, let alone autism’s causes and effects.

Now excuse me, I understand Mars is going to be even closer next August than last August…got to go buy a 900x telescope for next year…it’s gonna be awesome!

Not to hijack your rant too much, but why do babies have to wear socks? Sounds like it’s NOT fun to stay at the YMCA.

Can I play too?

Dear Boss,

I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to deal with personnel issues. It is a part of your job. Deal with it or find another job that doesn’t involve managing other people.

Hint: The person who comes to you complaining is not your enemy, nor are they necessarily the one you should be getting rid of. If five of your people are complaining about one co-worker, it’s time for you to get off your dead ass and do something about the one person being complained about. NO, that doesn’t necessarily require you to fire them, or anyone else, or ‘coach them out’. It would be best for everyone if you did NOT engage your ego or your anger in resolving a situation that isn’t about YOU.

If you “don’t want to hear it”, then you are deliberately choosing not to do a part of your job because you find it unpleasant. But hey, guess what? It’s a part of your job. Do it or go home.

Naw, you crazy :wink:

It’s fine to talk to the boss about specific issues, I’m here for that. But dramatically swinging into my office and asking me to talk you out of quitting is just unprofessional. Especially if you’ve forgotten the all important “hey boss, got a minute?”

It’s a safety/hygiene thing. The rule is that babies have to have at least socks, and if they are walking they need shoes. Stepping on a dropped lego hurts. Plus there is the issue of pieces of wood chips that get dragged in when we come in from the playground.

It’s not a minefield or anything, but little pieces get torn off of toys quite often. Nothing is more fun than finding a sharp piece of broken plastic and then searching for what it came off of.

I remember a girl from when I was in daycare- I was 4 or 5 and at a Kindercare. We were playing outside and the girl decided to take of her shoes and run around in the grass. She ended up stepping on a nail that was left after there was some work done. After that they got strict with the shoe rule.

Probably because of the rule, we’ve never had anything happen yet besides one or two splinters from wood chips + crocs or flip flops.